


took too many looks

by honeyvoiced



Category: Dynasty (TV 2017)
Genre: Almost Caught, Character Study... Almost, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:21:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25864285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyvoiced/pseuds/honeyvoiced
Summary: She's temporarily subdued the monster; like even though his self-control is entirely his own battle, he wouldn't hold himself this still for anyone but her.
Relationships: Kirby Anders/Adam Carrington
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24





	took too many looks

**Author's Note:**

> There are NO excuses for me deciding to write something this short but I haven't been interested in a straight ship on Dynasty in.. a while so lets go Kadam warriors

There's something especially rewarding about the way that Adam Carrington comes entirely undone underneath Kirby with surprisingly little effort on her end. It makes her feel powerful, even if it's only for a moment or two at a time - like she's temporarily subdued the monster; like even though his self-control is entirely his own battle, he wouldn't hold himself this still for anyone but her.

She's seen that sweet side of him, and while she loves it just as much, it makes her almost feel sorry for him. It's a little depressing to realize that the parts of himself that he thinks he can only show her in secret are the better things about him. The Carringtons all wore the same mask of aloofness, though, for most of them, it was masking their brutality. It was almost like Adam hadn't quite figured out their stage routine. He was smart - scarily so, in fact - but he still slipped up. Kirby still saw those cracks in the armor and the missteps in his performance. It was a compelling example of nature versus nurture; the signature Carrington coldness, but with the kindness of someone who hadn't been jaded by them over the years.

To his defense, it was as if he could tell that the sweetness was almost boring, remembering to keep things interesting by letting her see that much more aggressive side of him. To someone on the outside looking in, they'd call it a red flag. For Kirby, it was a reminder of his duality, and she was grateful for it. He was an easy target to outsiders, but frankly, none of the other Carringtons had any room to talk.

Everyone in the manor saw what they wanted to see and then got upset when people returned the favour. Adam was like some kind of twisted self-fulfilling prophecy - or at least, he almost had been. But he didn't need the defensiveness and the armor anymore, at least not with Kirby. He'd met her own twistedness halfway; she never needed to be meek or afraid.

To be on top of him, with the single thousand thread count sheet pooled around where they were joined at the pelvis, Kirby feels more like a god than the stupid little girl that everyone assumed she had to be to keep returning to the loft. 

She shifts her weight, drawing a low, defeated groan out of the man under her. A single bead of sweat rolls down her arm and itches at the crook of her elbow. 

"Not yet," she practically coos at him, pressing her hands more insistently against his chest. His muscles are rock hard under her fingers - his relatively formal dress normally hides them so well, but ever since the first time she walked in on him shirtless, she hasn’t stopped imagining them every time she looks at him.

He raises his arms and grips her wrists but doesn't move them, trading a warning squeeze on her arms for the eye contact he's forced to break as he closes his eyes.

Touching him feels like touching a surge-protected electric breaker. His skin is humming under her fingers, but he's completely self-disciplined. She shifts again and feels his thighs tense, but he doesn't press himself further into her like she knows he wants to.

"You're killing me, here," he hisses. He almost sounds angry for a moment; his fingers still tightly wrapped around her wrists. She catches his eye, and the tiniest hint of a smile ghosts over his face.

"You didn't need to call me," she tells him. "You could have called anyone else. You're a very eligible bachelor; I'm sure it wouldn't have been difficult to find a replacement."

She feels the muscles under her fingers shift and change, but before she can do anything about it, he's pulling her down to him and kissing her. It's rough, and domineering, and she's considering biting his lip when she finally breaks away, but he pulls out of her and shoves her over. 

Reflexively, she fights back. She's rarely wrestled down for a good reason, and even though at the baseline she trusts him, years of trauma trick her into thinking the world is ending for a moment. 

But then, because she has nothing to worry about - not ever; not with him - she screams, the sound dissolving into laughter when he descends on her neck and messily mouths his way down to nip at her earlobe. He's usually clean-shaven, but the hint of shadow making its home along his jawline scratches against her skin. It’s the most overwhelmingly pleasant version of tickling, turning her surprised giggling into heavy breathing almost immediately - an unfortunate and debilitating weakness of hers that she'd wasted no time in teaching him the first time they'd slept together.

"That's cheating," she tells him, but she doesn't mean it.

"Is it?" His voice is playful in her ear, and he kisses her cheek almost mockingly as he impatiently shoves aside the sheet around her hips. _"I_ think it’s resourceful. Besides, look how much you like it."

He presses his middle finger against her, and she lets out a high whine in response, spreading her legs further and trying to coax him into her. His fingertip slides against her easily, but never inside of her, and when he pulls away completely to bring his hand to his lips, she can see the results of her arousal gleaming wetly on his fingertips before he laps them into his mouth.

Trying to angle herself closer to him, she winces at the feeling of the sheet beneath her sticking to her back and grabs his shoulder to pull him back to her. 

The roughness and the playfulness melt away when his lips find hers, and his entire body relaxes against her. He wordlessly pushes her thighs open again with one hand, blindly finding his way back to her and touching her again. 

Reaching down and pressing him to her more insistently, Kirby rocks against his hand and sighs contently when he finally slides one, then two fingers into her. Grinding her clit against the heel of his hand, she lets out a tiny hiss of surprise when he suddenly curls his fingers, but when she opens her eyes to look at him, she realizes it isn't for her benefit, but that he's distracted by something outside of the window. 

"Adam?"

"Fallon's coming."

He pulls his fingers out of her so fast she feels like she's been gutted, letting out a loud, choked gasp that she doesn't have time to be embarrassed about before he’s sitting upright and yanking the curtains shut, throwing them into subdued darkness. 

He holds a finger to his lips in a 'shush' gesture at Kirby - as if she was really going to say anything - and then a moment later, there's a loud banging on the door; Kirby has to cover her mouth to stifle the startled yelp that she nearly lets out.

"I know you're in there!" Fallon's voice is muffled through the thick wooden door. After a moment, she tries the handle. Kirby meets Adam's eye, and he silently makes a locking gesture with one hand. Her heart rate relaxes, if only a little.

He shifts on the bed as quietly as he can while turning his attention back to the door, his knee pressing against her calf almost uncomfortably. She reaches out to push him away, and he jumps in surprise at the contact. She's filled with the immediate, white-hot urge to touch him again; it's impulsive and intentionally chaotic, not to mention overwhelming. She meets herself halfway by placing one hand flat against his thigh, though it’s deliberately a little higher up than 'casual' touching would call for. 

The reaction is incredible, though. She watches a twitch flutter across his stomach, his hand shifting from covering himself to tightening into an empty fist. He's still rock hard and jumps a little at the unexpected sensation, and clearly his brain can't wrap around the feeling of her fingertips and the frustration at Fallon banging on the door a second time.

There's a moment of quiet, where it seems like maybe Fallon's taken the hint and is going to finally leave, when suddenly Adam's phone is buzzing on the nightstand near the bed. Kirby grabs it before he can, spotting Fallon's name on the screen and rolling her eyes before moving to answer it. He snatches it away from her so quickly he's nearly a blur, shooting her a small glare before clearing his throat and speaking into the receiver:

"Hello?"

_"Are you serious, right now?"_

The phone isn't on speaker mode, but Kirby can still hear Fallon as clearly as she would if it were. She stifles a laugh, her fingers twitching over his leg before he covers his hand with hers warningly.

"What am I maybe or maybe not being serious about, right now?" 

Kirby watches Adam's features rearrange into an incredibly well-acted performance of innocent confusion.

Spurred on by the addiction to watching the way his face can contort from sweetness to raw need when she lines up all of her moves the right way, she shakes her hand out from under his and pushes him back. He leans comfortably against the headboard, listening intently as Fallon's voice drops below a yell and can no longer be heard from where Kirby is sitting. 

His hand comes up to rest on her hip as she climbs back on top of him - she can't help but smile a little smugly in response. The gesture is _affectionate_ and _friendly_ , and he's just _so trusting_.

She can feel the maddening light tickle from his hair before she pushes the feeling away and lowers herself onto him again. For a moment, it seems like he's not going to react - there's no pause in his words or difference in his tone of voice as he lies into the receiver about not being at home. She rolls her hips experimentally, and his fingertips dig roughly into her hip - she wonders if she's going to bruise.

Her eyes dart up to his face, and he looks frozen in the perfect mixture of agony and pleasure. There's a sheen of perspiration across his brow, his lips are parted just slightly, and the muscles in his neck are taut as guitar strings under his skin.

He catches her eye, and she can't tell if the look is pleading or warning, for a moment. It's a thrilling thought that it could be both.

She raises herself up like she's going to climb off of him again, and he looks relieved for a moment until she slides right back down, drawing a soft groan out of him. It obviously reads as 'frustrated' in a more appropriate way to Fallon, who Kirby can hear raising her voice at him again.

"Fallon, this is a really bad time."

Adam's words are funny enough to make her bring a hand up to cover her mouth, closing her eyes and letting the laughter silently shake her instead of blowing their cover. Her stomach tenses, and she lets out a sigh that the man under her mirrors.

Rolling her hips again, Kirby cocks her head back and lifts both arms up to bury her fingers in her hair. She's not one for faking anything, but the exaggerated show makes the man under her lower the phone to his shoulder and groan quietly. She stops moving abruptly and shushes him, just loud enough to be a stern warning, but quiet enough that Fallon won't hear.

"Be quiet," she hisses.

"I'll have to call you back," Adam says into the phone, through gritted teeth.

Kirby can hear Fallon continuing to protest even as he hangs up the call and tosses his phone aside. 

"Incorrigible," is all he says before grabbing each of her thighs and rocking his hips upwards underneath her. Freed from the confines of quietness in the background of his call, she lets out an appreciative moan and matches his movement, grinding down onto him and letting the heat pooling in her stomach spread out through her legs and chest.

"I just wanted to remind you to hurry up," Kirby replies, watching the smile slip across his features before vanishing to make room for a much more concentrated look.

He looks like he's going to make a snide comment back - something teasing but with no venom at all - but instead, he digs his fingers into her thighs and pushes further into her again. It does equally good work of shutting her up, for the time being.

"Still in a hurry?" Adam asks. She doesn't have the strength to answer; if she opens her mouth again, what comes out of her won't be words.

The guise of her control slips away when he slides his hands from her thighs up to her hips, grabbing her by the ass and forcing her down onto him even harder. He's moving like everything he does is pure, animal instinct, but she doesn't have a leg to stand on for being any more civilized than him, gasping his name and grinding shamelessly down on him again and again.

Leaning over him and grabbing the headboard in one fist, the other planting firmly on his chest to keep him in place, the first wave of her orgasm takes her completely by surprise, before it’s outdone by the second, much stronger one.

She can't see his face, for the time being, but she feels him spill into her, a surge of unfiltered affection hitting her even through the haze of already perfect euphoria. He's done that the last few times they've hooked up - at first, she figured he was holding out; waiting for her - but quickly realized that it’s the sight of her; the _feeling_ of her tipping over the edge that brings him to climax, every time, like clockwork.

Slowing her rocking to a stop and dropping her head to stare breathlessly down at him, Kirby catches the look on his face - the usual, exhausted contentment is there, but there's something else. He reaches up, his hand shaking - she put that tremor there, she realizes with a thrill - and brushes his fingers across her stomach. Her skin jumps reflexively under his fingers, but she stays very still as he affectionately, blindly brushes away the sheen of perspiration, then looks her in her eye again.

"You wanna go again?" She asks.

"Very much," he replies, his face breaking into a crooked grin. "I should see what it was that Fallon wanted, though."

"Tell her that you and I are busy," Kirby insists, shifting to settle in beside him instead. She presses her breast to his arm and touches his chest, glancing up at his face for a sign of weakness before leaning in to kiss his jaw.

"I think she's mad enough at you for all of this as is." Adam gestures between the two of them. 

Rearing back, Kirby raises an eyebrow.

"Since when are you concerned? I told you, I don't care what she thinks, or what my dad thinks, or anyone e-"

Adam silences her by kissing her. For a moment, the gesture is too soft, too romantic, but it quickly turns rough, and she lets out a quiet moan of defeat as he cups her other breast. She hasn’t decided yet if the sex is better when he’s in good boy or bad boy mode - _much_ more continued, repetitive research is needed.

"One more time," he agrees, as he pulls away. "Then, back to reality."

Kissing her one more time before she can protest, he works his way down her throat, chest, and then stomach. His phone buzzes again, but he ignores it for the time being; Kirby knows that there's no point in pouting about it. 

He shoves the thought from her mind by continuing his trail downward, hiking her legs up over his shoulders - the phone, Fallon, and the world outside of the walls of the loft soon forgotten.


End file.
